‘And pray where has this young lady been hiding herself all her life, and how is it that she has suffered her rights to be in abeyance all this time?’ ‘She was brought up in ignorance of her parentage.’ ‘Oh! I understand,’ cried Churchill, scornfully. ‘Some Miss Jones, or Smith, who has taken it into her wise young head—inspired doubtless by some astute friend—that she may as well prove herself a Penwyn, if she can. And you come to me with this liberal offer of a compromise to take half my estate in the most off-hand way. Upon my word, Mr. Clissold, you and this scheme of yours are a little too absurd. I can’t even allow myself to be angry with you. That would be taking the thing too seriously.’ ‘Remember, Mr. Penwyn, if I leave this house without arriving at some kind of understanding with you I shall place the matter in the hands of my solicitors without delay, and the law must take its course. However protracted or costly the process by which Miss Penwyn may obtain her rights, I have no doubt as to the ultimate issue. She would have been contented with half your fortune. The law, if it give her anything will give her all.’ ‘So be it. I will fight her to the bitter end. First and foremost, this marriage, supposing this document to be genuine,’ bringing down his clenched fist upon the paper, and with an evil upward look at Maurice, ‘is no marriage!’ ‘What do you mean?’ ‘A marriage with a person of unsound mind is no marriage. It is void in law. There is Blackstone to refer to if you doubt me,’ pointing to a set of volumes in dark brown Russia. ‘Now, Muriel, the daughter of Michael Trevanard, has been deranged for the last twenty years. It is a notorious fact to everybody in the neighbourhood.’ ‘When that marriage took place, and for a year after the marriage, Muriel was as sane as you or I. Her brain was turned by the shock she experienced upon being informed suddenly of her husband’s awful death. I can bring forward sufficient witnesses to prove the state of her mind up to that time. And again you are to remember that the same authority you have just quoted tells you that no marriage is voidable after the death of either of the contracting parties.’ ‘And you are prepared to prove that this young woman—this waif and stray, brought up without the knowledge of her name or parentage—is the legitimate daughter of my uncle, George Penwyn, and Muriel, his wife. Go your ways, Mr. Clissold, and make the best use of your evidence, documentary or otherwise. I will stand by my rights against you, and would stand by them against a stronger cause than yours.’ He touched a spring bell, which stood on his desk,—a summons answered with extreme promptitude. ‘The door,’ said the Squire, resuming his book, without so much as a parting glance at his visitor.